


Beyond Words

by mathmusicreading



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 07:06:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathmusicreading/pseuds/mathmusicreading
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sif's always found Loki agreeable and felt herself drawn to him; she can't understand at all why others wouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond Words

**Author's Note:**

> I utterly lack creativity and cannot come up with prompts or write to save my life, but I managed to come up with the following prompt for [Mischief and Mistletoe Treats](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/m_and_m_treats/):
> 
> Kidfic where Sif can always get Loki to do things—join them in training and adventures, play tricks with her, cut and bespell her hair—and he replies with "As you wish." Sif's always felt drawn to Loki and never really noticed how he's different toward her, but one day she realizes when he says "As you wish," what Loki really means is "I love you." And she realizes she loves him too.
> 
> I know it's my own prompt and I can't write, but I'm trying because I'd love to see this and I'm in a bad slump so I'm hoping this can get me out of it. I apologize for not claiming the prompt; I'd still love to read someone else's fill and I can't believe I'm trying to write this to get out of my slump.

_She is young to be visiting the palace for the first time, too young for this to be her presentation to the court or for her to engage in the elbow rubbing and navigation of the nobility. Instead, her father allows her to run along while he conducts his business. She is excited and more than capable of taking care of herself, already haring off in search of adventure._

_She finds it in the form of two boys, shouting as they grapple and roll in a clearing._

_She doesn't think as she rushes in and lets loose a battle cry, pulling the bigger boy off the one her own age. She throws him to the ground and pins him; both boys stop struggling in their shock at this sudden turn of events._

_Delight breaks upon the sunny face looking up at her, and emerald eyes turn upon her filled with admiration._

_This is how Sif meets the two princes._

 

"Come on, Loki!" Sif's smile is bright as she drags the younger prince after her.

He returns her smile; the sound of Thor's counting is fading fast behind them. They continue to hold hands as they slow, and Loki silently nods to the right, pulling her in a new direction. They are quiet now as they slip into a dusky hollow, settling into their hiding place as they wait for Thor to find them.

Sif and Loki whisper and giggle together, unmindful of the time passing by, until the sun is setting and they know Thor has long given up the search.

Sif flashes him a triumphant grin. "Don't ever share this place with anyone else, Loki. Let's keep it our secret."

He tucks a carnation in her hair and sketches a small bow.

"As you wish."

 

The library is cool and quiet, peaceful.

"You won't find Thor here."  
  
"I know," she replies simply.

Loki looks up with a smile and scoots over as she sits and bumps his hip.

"What are you reading?" She looks over his arm with interest.

"A compendium of popular tales. They're quite entertaining and most enlightening on the values and cultures across the realms."

"Mmm," Sif tucks herself against him, "Read some to me?"  
  
"As you wish."

 

Sif's eyes sparkle and Loki's are alight with their mischief.

He usually performs his pranks alone, the trickster prince, but she is the perfect partner, the both of them so filled with life. To benevolent Asgard looking on, they appear only the little girl, the quiet boy and second prince, so young and innocent—really, it is all too easy for them to miss the notice of those who should be wary.

After liberating a healthy number of fresh apple tarts from the kitchens, they spend the better part of the day collecting spiders within and without the palace, appearing to be no more than two young heads bowed together in childish discovery and the laughter of mirthful spirits. Now all that is left is to claim their post from which to rain their surprise down on unsuspecting heads.

Sif is struck by the idea of going to war with their fellow rogues. They giggle as they climb their tree, passing the bucket back and forth between them, and are quite ready when they spy three youths of an age with Thor sneaking off to Idunn's orchards. The deliciousness of the idea, the potential for further fun, and the inherent insurance to keep them from getting caught are all perfect, so when Sif insists on sending the bucket as well as the spiders after the poachers, Loki's eyes and grin are gleaming.

"As you wish."

 

Wooden practice sword in hand, Sif stalks silently through the halls, her shadow long and dark behind her. She and Thor are pretending to be mighty warriors venturing through Hel in pursuit of dragons. Their new friends, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg, somewhat reluctantly play Fafnir, Hakurel, and Nidhoggr respectively—they know Thor's enthusiasm for the game will be more than matched by Sif's ferocity.

Sif prowls alone because her indomitable will allowed her to impose her own plan of a pincer movement after refuting Thor's proposed frontal assault with the argument of their being outnumbered. She feels quite self-satisfied with the course of their play and magnanimously allows Thor to keep his self-proclaimed title of leader, but she can't help but agree a little with Thor's grumbling about Loki's proving elusive before the game even began. As much as she enjoys having prevailed over Thor and practicing her stealth, she suspects the trio will be hiding in avoidance, taking the fun out of the game. If they will not take any initiative, there is little point in tracking.

Despite the boys' impatience over the delay, she feels sure she could have recruited Loki if he had been anywhere to be found. It would have been well worth the time and effort, for things are always ten times more fun and interesting with Loki.  
  
She sighs, and her shadow flickers.  
  
Sif whirls around and gasps as Loki steps out of the darkness, and she realizes the size and depth of her shadow had been uncharacteristic for the time of day and the high windows in the passage.

"Loki!" she whispers in admonishment, "Have you been following me this whole time?"

He smirks mischievously at her. "I had no wish to partake in my brother's foolhardy plan, and then you handled him so well I felt no need to intercede."  
  
"Alright then," she punches him in the arm and beams, "let's see if we can convert this skirmish into an ambush."  
  
He conjures his own practice sword with a flourish.

"As you wish."

 

They no longer use wooden substitutes but dull-edged practice weapons, and Sif is wildness and beauty in motion with her glaive. It is early yet for them to begin formal training as warriors, and so they have only each other to contend with. In light of their standing, the band has grown tightly knit and rarely are they seen missing a member on the training grounds. The trio have taken to calling themselves the Warriors Three, and the court is beginning to feel unease over the continuing outlier that is Sif. A shout marks the conclusion of her warm-up pattern dance, but her challenge goes unanswered as Thor and the Warriors Three have already paired off.

Following his initial stretching Loki has forgone physical engagement and is instead sitting upon a bench, occupied with a tome of sorcery. Just as the youths are proceeding in the domain of weaponry, so too is he progressing in his seidr.

Sif is indisposed to waiting to spar with an opponent who will be less than fresh, and so she approaches Loki and allows her shadow to fall upon the pages of his book.

Loki lifts his gaze and regards her with an eyebrow raised in inquiry.  
  
Sif's expression is wolfish as she props her glaive against the wall and leans into his space. "I require your services upon the field."  
  
Twin daggers appear in his hand as he sets aside his tome and rises fluidly to his feet. They wear matching grins when he throws one over her shoulder and she catches it deftly.

"As you wish."

 

They are balanced upon the cusp of adulthood, frames coltish and beginning to fill. In their faces fleeting glimpses can be caught as in rippling pools, revealing the potential they will fulfill.

The whispers are increasing, but Sif has no wish to be a lady, and she is set upon her desire to be a warrior.

She goes to him, for they are ones apart and none other can understand.

She enters his chambers without a pause or a sound, joining him where he reclines on his bed. She takes his hand, hazel eyes filled with intent as they meet emerald, and slips his dagger from its sheath at his wrist. She proffers it and her neck to him.

"I would set myself apart, on a path of my own choosing and forging." She looks up at him. "Will you help me?"

His hands cradle the dagger and her so carefully, so gently. What she sees in his eyes and hears in his voice she cannot define.

"As you wish."

 

The time she spends in his hands is both an eternity and a popped, shining, gossamer bubble.

He gathers her fallen golden tresses with reverence and offers them to her.

She closes his hands over them and lifts both their heads that they may meet gazes.

Then, never breaking her eyes away from his, she lowers his hands to the bedspread again, indicating that he release the golden cascade.

Once again she takes his hand in her own and inclines herself toward him.

Again she brings his hand to her head in perfect trust. "I would be like you."

A hand cradles her cheek and another her shorn head so carefully, so gently.

Her eyes are closed; they do not see the wonder and the beyond wonder in his eyes.

"As you wish."

 

She doesn't know how to thank Loki, but they understand each other. So Sif leans back against him. Her hands gently caress and trace across his own.  
  
"Show me your magic?"

Green light casts a soft glow on their faces as it dances to create tales and realms far from them. His breath whispers in her new, ebony tresses.

"As you wish."

 

They do not understand him with his silver tongue and subterfuge, his slipperiness and slender knives, his seidr, his stillnesses and silences. He is different, the dark prince, and sometimes they wonder about him, or whisper, or dismiss or pass over him in their incomprehension.

Sometimes, he rebuffs them.

Sometimes, they do not include him.

Sometimes, he is caught up in his own world.

Sometimes, they forget him.

She always remembers him.  _How could she ever forget Loki?_ And she is never afraid of him.  _Why should she fear him?_ She has always known him.  _They are the same._

He has ever been the one orbiting about their band, tangentially connected and drifting away to intersect again.

"He is the Silvertongue, he has no interest in adventure and battle."

"He has never cared for glory, and he is a sorcerer besides!"

"He did not join us on our latest quests, he will not want to now."

"He is not to be found, it cannot be helped."

Sif dismisses their words without a thought; Loki revels in their exploits and will readily join them. She knows this is an enterprise he must be part of.

She finds him readily enough; Loki is never far.

"Loki, a fully grown Bilgesnipe threatens Asgard. We would have our comrade be part of our company and the story and song that shall be passed down through the ages. The glory shall be great, and all shall toast your cleverness and knowledge, your steel and seidr. Will you join us? I would have you by my side, that we may enjoin in combat together and strengthen each other, side-by-side in saga."

If she were to look, Sif would see in Loki's eyes the mingling of appreciation and their turning solemn. As it is, they clasp hands with conviction as he rises to his feet.

"As you wish."

 

The great hall is alight and filled with merriment and triumph; the All-Father honors our heroes for the great service they have done the realm and the eternal glory they have brought upon themselves. A clamor breaks out in the demand for the tale of their latest deeds, and many voices cry for Thor, their golden crown prince. But Sif has already taken Loki's hand and surged to her feet, proclaiming that his silver tongue will regale them with an account that will take its place in the canon of the ages. Loki turns to her with a smile, spreading his arms before placing one hand over his heart and bowing to the entirety of the assembly.

"As you wish."

 

They are youths no longer but men, and a woman who is perhaps the greatest among them. They are coming into their roles and themselves, and appreciation of this fact is felt on both sides. While Hogun is uninterested in the company of another, Volstagg is betrothed to Gudrun—a maid who shares all his life's passions—and Fandral keeps company with all the beauties of the court. Thor, the crown prince, the maidens' ideal, is never without admirers, and Sif herself is the attention of many second glances. She refutes any further advances, but it cannot be denied that she is a figure of beauty and desire in which fascination is only tempered with fear.

As for Loki, he receives looks of appreciation and the attentions of those who would aspire to the second prince, but he is like quicksilver and can never be held.

Tonight, he is surveying the swirl of colors as the Aesir dance in the firelight, a common enough occurrence at affairs through the years.

Sif appears suddenly before him, with an effulgent glow and red and gold highlights in her dark hair cast by the firelight, her eyes and voice filled with laughter, "You must learn to join the dance, Loki; come, dance with me!"

He cannot resist when she takes his hands and pulls him to her.

"As you wish."

 

"He stays with you at the dances you know," Sigyn notes one day.

"We are friends," Sif shrugs. "We share a rapport."

 

These many years gone by, the hollow, their place, still glows emerald with the filtering of the sunlight through the trees, and Sif can think of naught but Loki.

She has never thought about it before. There has never been a need to.

_She knows Loki. It is that simple._

_They are apart, and they are together in their separation, standing hand-in-hand against the realms._

_She can always go to Loki._

_They are friends, and more._

"Sif?"

Loki enters the hollow.

He sits down beside her.

She smiles.

"Stay with me?"

His return smile gently illuminates his face and suffuses her very being with a soft glow.

"As you wish."  _Forever. I love you._

And in that moment, she hears him more clearly than she ever has—she knows her heart.

"Kiss me?" _I love you._

"As you wish."

**Author's Note:**

> I love the sweetness and slow development of [kidfic and young love](http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ChildhoodFriendRomance), and the deeper meaning and [epistrophe](http://www.virtualsalt.com/rhetoric2.htm#Epistrophe) with "as you wish" are just beautiful. So I hope instead of cliche, that this is art that approaches the beauty of the idea, and I would love to see someone else's execution of this.
> 
> There's so much left unsaid by Sif and Loki so I'm not sure this can even stand without the prompt, and there's so much left unsaid by me the author ~~starting with their characterizations, can it even count as my taking advantage of the established verse, help, I don't know if this can even qualify as AU~~. In particular if you'd like to talk with me about my failure to show instead of tell, the elements I chose to comprise the scenes, or my attempt to weave the sections together and to show both Sif and Loki falling in love throughout, please don't hesitate to hit me up! I'd love any and all feedback, or just for you to spread the love and share your own Loki/Sif.


End file.
